were ready," as Miss Nightingale reported to Mr. Herbert (Dec. 21), "to receive 500 men on the 19th from the ships _Ripon_ and _Golden Fleece_. They were received in the wards by Dr. McGrigor and myself, and were generally in the last stage of exhaustion. I supplied all the utensils, including knives and forks, spoons, cans, towels, etc., clearing our quarters of these." [121] My statements are based on a letter from Miss Nightingale to Mr. Sidney Herbert of Dec. 5, 1854. IV In all these things Miss Nightingale may be warmly commended, but the officials need not be too hotly condemned. They were but doing their duty, as they had learnt it; and for the rest, it was the system, or want of system, that was at fault. Just as in London there was no co-ordination among the Departments, so at Scutari there was no unity of action, and no clear personal responsibility. "It is a current joke here," wrote Miss Nightingale from Scutari, "to offer a prize for the discovery of any one willing to take responsibility." It was never awarded, for Miss Nightingale herself was, I suppose, "barred." In writing to Mr. Herbert, she called many of the officials at Scutari by very hard names, but in other letters she admitted that the ultimate fault lay elsewhere. "The grand administrative evil," she said (Dec. 10), "emanates from home--in the existence of a number of departments here, each with its centrifugal and independent action, uncounteracted by any centripetal attraction, viz. a central authority capable of supervising and compelling combined effort for each object at each particular time." Mr. Herbert might write, but the officials would not act. The force of custom was too strong. Miss Nightingale showed the Purveyor a letter from the Minister. "This is the first time," he said, "I have had it in writing that I was not to spare expense. I never knew that I might not be thrown overboard." "Your name," she had told Mr. Herbert (Nov. 25), "is continually used as a bug-bear. They make a deity of cheapness, and the Secretary at War stands as synonymous here with Jupiter Tonans, whose shafts end only in a _brutum fulmen_. The cheese-paring system, which sounds unmusical in British ears, is here identified with you by the officers who carry it out. It is in vain to tell the Purveyors that they will get no _kudos_ by this at home."